Eye of the Hurricane
by Hanane EL Mokkadem
Summary: My last thought before I died was; please someone help me? I don't want to die. Anything, anything but this. Maybe I should have worded the last part a bit differently. Life as a Demi-god is short and brutal. Here's to hoping I don't die before I'm at least old enough to get laid. Self-Insert
1. Passage

_I do not own Percy Jackson & the Olympians._

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_Chapter One - Passage_

_..._

Unlike that stupid chick from Twilight, I'd given plenty of thought on how I would die. I blamed it on being raised by a neurotic mother whose biggest fear was death ever since she found my three-year old brother floating face-down in the pond located near our back-yard.

Growing up with my mom meant being brought up fearing a number of things. Water was a big no-no in our family, so were heights, dogs, and many other things that could cause a painful death.

I was lucky. I wasn't as effected by my brother's death as my other siblings. I don't even remember him. I was exactly seven months old when he left the backyard to play with the boy next door and never came home.

Usually, my eldest sister Jaynie, who was eleven years old at that time, watched him whenever he went outside to play, while my other bothers and sisters pitched in when needed. That day my sister went to a birthday party, the first she was ever invited to. My older sister Vivienne, who was nine at that time, later told me that they all just kinda thought he was with her when they couldn't find him.

Needles to say we didn't get to go to any birthday parties after that.

My sister Hannah who was seven years old when he drowned told me that things went downhill from that day. My mom went insane with grief and locked every door, both literally and figuratively speaking. My siblings, who were used to our front and back door being open at all times during the day, and being able to run around the neighborhood with the other kids, suddenly weren't allowed to go outside anymore.

Hannah's exact words were 'a complete emotional and physical lock-down'.

I didn't really experience this. By the time I was old enough to go outside my mother regained back her sanity. The rules she did have, like not accepting any birthday party invitations, or no sleepover with friends, were usually cast aside for me. The rules that weren't I just ignored. As you can imagine I was a bit of a spoiled brat.

My mother's three-year old son just died and I was a helpless seven month old baby. She poured everything she had into her children, especially me. It lessened a bit when I was two years old and my baby brother was born, but it never really went away. With the way she spoiled me it was a miracle I grew up into the woman I am today. Someone with a good sense of justice who knew right from wrong. Granted, I didn't always do the right thing, but I was well aware that what I was doing was wrong and felt pretty guilty about it..most of the times.

A good example of that was my ability to manipulate most people and situations to my advantage. As a small child I used this ability relentlessly, not even understanding what I was doing, or that I was even doing it at all. When I was a teenager I used it when I could get away with it; knowing who you can manipulate and who to steer clear of goes a long way in the art of manipulating.

As an adult I had to constantly stop myself from twisting people in knots, and manipulating loved ones in doing what I wanted them to do. Sure I never wanted to hurt them and I sincerely believed I was doing what was best for them, but I was starting to see that I was somewhat, or a lot, in some cases, taking their right to choose from them.

Like my sister Vivienne asking me for advice about her boyfriend. My first instinct was to have her break up with him because I genuinely hated the guy. I knew I could get her to do it too; she was easy to manipulate. But I did my best to suppress this instinct. One of the reasons she was so easy to manipulate was that she was so naïve and trusting. She would never think such a thing of me, because I was her sister and I loved her, and I only wanted what was best for her.

She was right, but unfortunately the methods I sometimes used to get what I thought was best for her, were not always right. Luckily my moral compass was well-developed and I tried very hard to not use my 'powers' for evil.

Anyway, like I said earlier, unlike that chick from Twilight, I'd thought about dying more than was healthy for a well-adjusted person. Not only how I would die, but what would happen to me after. Was there a heaven or hell? Would I just stop existing after I died, or did the afterlife exist?

Of all the things I came up with I never ever thought it would play out the way it did.

I was twenty-seven years old when I died and a mother of three young children. I loved my children more than anything. But there were times where I wished I could go back in time and live my life again. I'd find a way to have the same children again, but there were so many things I'd change, things I'd do differently.

Death came to me the day my husband told me he wanted a divorce because he had found someone else he loved more than me. I remember just looking at him not knowing what to say, feeling my chest burn and hurt, like an elephant stepped on it and was trying to wipe off the crap he accidentally stepped in.

I listened to his reasons not actually hearing much of what he said, took a deep shuddering breath and ran from the house we were suppose to raise our family in for the rest of our lives, ignoring the cry of my youngest son who was calling for his mommy. I would later regret ignoring that cry very much.

I took my car and traveled the three-hour journey it took to get to my childhood home. When I arrived I slowly walked to the pond located seventy-five yards from my parents' back-yard, not even looking at the house my mother and father were probably sitting in, watching another one of their Portuguese drama shows. It wasn't even like we were Portuguese or anything. My mom just watched it because she loved the drama and dad watched it because it took too much effort to wrestle away the remote-controller from my mom.

I looked at the water and slowly walked towards the small wooden jetty my brother supposedly fell off. I could never quite bring myself to take even one single step on it. I had played around this pond for most of my childhood. I had caught fish in it, ice-skated around on it, during winter, floated around on a blue and yellow blow-up boat, but I never quite forgot that this was the place my brother Forrest died.

I wondered why I went there of all the places I could have gone to. I closed my eyes and took a deep shuddering breath before opening them. To my surprise the water wasn't calm. I hadn't noticed before, too preoccupied with the many thoughts running though my mind, but it was raining heavily. My clothes were wet and clinging to my body, I wasn't wearing a coat, I left home too upset with my husbands' words to even think about taking one with me.

I took another deep breath and sat down in the wet grass. I rested my back against a thin metal pole that my mother told me was put there a month after my bother died. She always told me about it like it was some kind of mark; someone died here. I never did find out what it really was.

I spent, I don't even know how long, just looking at the water, wondering what the hell I was going to do. My husband was leaving me for someone else, I didn't even want to reconcile if it was even possible on his end. It was betrayal, plain and simple. Betrayal of me, our life, our _children._ I didn't want someone like that in my life, not anymore. He would have to go.

The children weren't going to be a problem, I knew my husband loved them very much, we could work out an arrangement. My problem was that I didn't even have a high school diploma to my name. What kind of work was I suppose to find without it? It was one of the things I would've changed if I could have turned back time.

I wasn't stupid, hell, one of the reasons my husband listed for looking elsewhere in our marriage was that I gave more attention to my books, and writing, than to him. I just made a couple of stupid decisions in my youth, and never took the time to rectify them when I grew older.

The heavy rain pelted my face and body and it didn't even feel that cold, but the wind was blowing hard enough to make it hurt. It didn't really bother me though. It was better to feel something than the constant numbness. I could hear thunder sounding not to far from me and watched with apathy as lightning cleaved the sky. The first stirrings of unease began when I realized how soon the sound of thunder was followed by a lightning bolt illuminating the heavens.

It was time to go. Not only was it dangerous to be outside during a lightning storm, but sitting around on the cold wet grass soaked to the bone would only make me sick, and that was the last thing anybody needed.

I climbed to one knee, turned around, and wrapped my hand around the thin metal pole, using it as leverage to pull myself up from the floor. I looked up when the thunder sounded even closer than before, and gasped in shock when the lightning hit the ground maybe five-hundred feet from my location.

Contrary to popular belief, a lightning _strike_ itself is usually not responsible for multiple deaths or injuries from a single event. The near instantaneous rush of surface charges, induced by the overhead thundercloud itself, race to the strike point from hundreds to thousands of feet away during discharge. This current, caused during each stroke, takes the path of least resistance, which may be iron rich human or animal legs, over poorly conducting earth.

In this case it was conducted through the earth into the thin metal pole my hand was still wrapped around. It didn't kill me instantaneously, I could literally feel it going into my body as I watched in shocked horror as my hand melted into blood and bone. Pain, unbearable pain and the smell of my flesh burning is all I remember. As I fell to the ground I prayed my mother wouldn't be the one to find me. I didn't think she'd survive going through something like that twice.

My last thought as I died was; please someone help me? I don't want to die. Anything, anything but this.

I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave my children, but more importantly, I was twenty-seven years old and had my whole life in front of me. I would have done anything if it meant I could get a second chance. Anything.

Death was nothing like I expected. No God, no pearly gates, not even hell. It was just complete darkness. I was comfortable, yes. I felt warm and safe, a bit like drinking my mother's famous cup of hot coco with marshmallows while wearing nothing but my favorite robe that came straight out of the dryer. All in all things were good. But did I really want to spend the rest of my afterlife in the dark? No. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, I just, was. I had no body, no arms no legs, nothing. All that remained was who I used to be. My consciousness, my memories.

I thought about my children a lot. But the pain I thought I would feel, the panic I used to feel at the mere though of losing one of my beautiful children, was nonexistent. It was very strange and unlike me, making me suspect my emotions were deliberately being suppressed or numbed somehow. I simply knew my children would be fine; their father would take good care of them. The only emotion I did vaguely feel was regret that I wasn't going to be there to watch them grow up, and jealousy of the new woman who would take my place in their lives. The woman who they would call mom now that I was gone. But even then I wasn't worried. My parents and brothers and sisters would make sure my children knew who I was, and how much I loved them.

I stayed in that dark place for...I don't even know how long. But slowly things were starting to change. I was beginning to feel human again, like my body had been put on standby and was slowly being reactivated limb after limb. First a heartbeat, I didn't even hear it because my ears were still 'offline', but I had lived with a heartbeat before, and I knew the feeling intimately, instinctively. I didn't need my ears to recognize it.

Some time after that, other sensations began to come back. Like the ability to move my hands and feet, actually having hands and feet. Hearing sounds, and opening my mouth, even if there were no sounds coming out.

I couldn't see anything, but it didn't take me long to figure out I was either trapped inside the Matrix, you know that big bag of slime Neo finds himself in when he's disconnected from the Matrix, or someone had taken my wish of wanting to redo my life a little too literal and I was sent back in time with all my memories intact and was now stuck inside my mother's womb.

So I have an over-active imagination, sue me.

I wasn't sure which one I preferred. Seriously, getting reborn with all my memories intact would be the epitome of awesomeness, but then there was also, you know, the Matrix, which couldn't be measured cool-factor wise.

Eventually I decided to go with whatever it was that was waiting for me once I left this cozy place. I'd deal with it then and try to enjoy the peace I was granted for however long I could.

I spent my days blowing bubbles I couldn't see, singing songs I couldn't hear and genuinely just trying to live through the boredom of being stuck in one place for too long a time without going insane. Seriously, getting the hiccups was the equivalent of being dumped in Narnia by a higher power for me. That was how mind-numbingly boring it was.

After a while I reluctantly let go of my Matrix fantasy and admitted I probably was inside my mother's womb. Getting a do-over with my life and actually having the chance to erase every mistake I ever made was a gift. I couldn't wait for my life to re-start. I relished every sound I could make out from outside my comfy prison. There was a woman's voice who I figured was my mother since I heard her the most. There were other voices, not many, but I was happy to hear anything I could. My favorite beside my mom's voice though, was the man's voice that I knew with absolute certainty was my father's.

I didn't hear him often, but when I did I felt such warmth, and joy. I loved listening to him. And somehow, I don't know how, I could always feel it the few times he touched my mother's stomach. It was like he was touching me.

It was strange because although I loved my dad very much, and always knew my dad loved me, I had never felt as close to him as I did in that moment.

As time passed the space in my comfy bubble was soon gone, and I could hardly move around without some serious effort. I knew my time of birth was nearing. I was going to be born soon and I could only pray to God, he'd allow me to forget pushing my way out of my mother's va-jay-jay.

I didn't think I had done that many bad things in my previous life to constitute consciously experiencing being born. It would be a cruel and unusual punishment.

The day of my birth, or re-birth really, started with a constricting feeling, like my prison was actually a tub of toothpaste and I was slowly being pushed out. It was horrifying, traumatizing and all kinds of ick-worthy words, but mostly, I just wanted to forget the hell out of it. So yeah, I'm not going into detail about the birthing process. I got out, that's all I'm going to say about it.

The sensation of being held as a baby was weird as hell. I screamed like I was being dangled out of a tenth story window. It felt like I was being cradled by a fucking giant. It made me feel vulnerable, small, and literally scared for my life. With my shitty luck the fucker holding me would probably drop me on my head or something like that. My brother Richard used to ask me if I was dropped on my head as a baby all the time, so I figured, you know, maybe he had a reason for asking.

I don't know when I started to get the clue that something wasn't right. It could have been when the doctor called my mom Sally, which was not my mother's name. Or when the doctor handed me to my not-mom and asked her, "How are you going to name him?"

If I could have talked, I would have been the youngest person in the history of mankind using the phrase, "What the fuck?"

"Perseus. Perseus Jackson, named after his cousin," My not-mom answered, smile evident in her tone of voice. "And I'll call him Percy for short."

Oh sweet mother of God. Not only was I reborn to someone who in no way resembled my mother, I was born with a penis. I couldn't help but wonder if it was too late to choose the Matrix option. Anything should be better than being reborn as a member of the penis carrying card club. And that name, Perseus Jackson, I knew that name.

"Lovely name," the doctor said politely, "And do you also have a name picked out for the girl? I know it must have been quite a surprise to walk into the hospital expecting to leave with one child only to find out you were actually expecting two." he chuckled with amusement, "It was a big surprise for me, and I'm only the doctor. It must be quite difficult for you, especially since the father is out of the picture."

Girl? _Girl_? Oh please, for the love of everything that is holy, let him be talking about me. And twins, did that mean Perseus was my brother? What about my - possibly our - deadbeat dad? And what was up with this doctor? He was being kinda rude.

"There is always the option of giving one, or both, up for adopt-"

"Thank you, Doctor," my new still-not-mom said coldly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "But both my children are very wanted and loved by both their parents."

Well that was good. It would suck to be unwanted.

She took a deep breath and I felt her hand on my face softly caressing my mouth. I tried opening my eyes but I was very tired and couldn't see much more than shadows and light. "Rhea," my mom said lovingly. "I'll name you Rhea, after your father's mother."

"Perseus and Rhea Jackson," the asshole doctor said, "Both names originate in Greek Mythology, correct?"

"Yes," my mother said tiredly. "They're family names, their father is Greek."

Oh crap, I didn't like where this was going. I knew the name Percy Jackson, I had read his books to my nephews whenever I had to babysit. It was a book series about a boy who finds out his father is Poseidon the Greek god of the sea. Percy Jackson & the Olympians. But I didn't remember there being a sister. So it couldn't be true. I had to be wrong somehow. Things like this just didn't happen to me. I wasn't special or anything. Besides, Why would I be reborn into a story that didn't need me anyway? The kid did fine without any help.

"Oh yes, I see," the doctor said. "Well congratulations, Sally. The nurse will be with you shortly to take you and your children to your room. If you need anything or have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask."

"I will. Thank you, Doctor," she replied in a tone of voice that showed she wouldn't be asking him for anything any time soon. His adoption suggestion must have really pissed her off. That was very good to know. It would've pissed me off too if I were her, it was way out of line.

The doctor left and my mother placed a soft kiss on the crown of my head. "You were unexpected, but welcome, so welcome, little Rhea. Your father is going to be so happy to hear he has a daughter. He doesn't have many of those, you know. No mortal daughters at least. You'll be daddy's little princess, yes you will, yes you will," she said talking with a little baby voice.

I curled my nose in disgust at the indignity I was forced to suffer, making my mother chuckle softly. It was starting to look more and more likely that I really was reborn into a story, and the sea dude really was my father. If this was my new reality instead of the massive delusion I was kind of hoping it was, then I could practically kiss any hope of a safe, uncomplicated life, goodbye.

_'Well fuck me sideways.'_

If I really was Rhea daughter of Poseidon, then at the very least I had some idea of what was coming. It was better than being born in a world I knew jack shit about. I would have to think about it later. Or maybe if I was real lucky, this was a hallucination the Matrix came up with, and all I had to do was sit tight and wait for Morpheus and Trinity to come rescue my ass.

Yeah. Somehow I didn't think so either.

My new mother's disgustingly cute baby talk was thankfully interrupted when three nurse came to wheel us to our room. One of the nurses took me from my mother and gently laid me down into, if I remembered correctly from my own experiences with childbirth, a plastic crib on wheels.

"There you go," she said, gently laying me down. "Say hello to your big brother."

I could feel a body next to me, moving with every intake of breath. My new brother was obviously still sleeping. That was good, I didn't need to have a crying baby screaming in my ear at a time I was feeling like my world was coming to end. I was going take my brother's example and sleep. Maybe I would wake up to find out it was all some insane dream.

.

.

.

I spent the next weeks after my birth ignoring the world around me, grieving for my old life and saying goodbye. My mother often commented how different I was compared to my brother, who was constantly crying, shitting, and puking his way through infancy.

Sure, I did all those things too, but unlike my brother I kept the crying to a bare minimum, and only let myself be heard if I was hungry, had a tummy ache, or suffered from the indignity of a dirty diaper. I wasn't even going to think about breastfeeding. Talk about being traumatized for life.

I was an easy baby to raise, more involved with the plans I was making in my mind than what was going on around me. I'd decided early on that the whole Percy Jackson thing would be written off as a coincidence until having a Greek god as father could be proven without reasonable doubt; like witnessing him walk on water - or watching him turn water into wine. Wait, wasn't that Jesus who did those things? Never mind, they sounded enough like a miracle to use it as a measuring stick.

Until I saw proof, and probably after too, I was going to concentrate on living my new life. It was hard to accept at first. The numbing feeling that flooded me whenever I thought about being separated from my family stopped me from going insane with grief. It made it easier to see my situation clearly. I loved my family dearly but realistically speaking, it wasn't like I was ever going to get to go home. Letting go was surprisingly easy when I accepted that fact. But I was still pretty sure someone was messing with my emotions, suppressing them to make it easier for me to adjust to my new life. I wasn't sure whether to be pissed off or relieved about it. Some days I picked the former, some days the latter. Hell, some days I went with both.

Percy was a very loud, needy child who constantly used my fingers as a pacifier. I allowed him to because it was the only thing that would shut the damn brat up. My mother made us sleep in the same crib so he was the first thing I saw clearly in this new world I found myself in, and I was the first thing he saw. We were like fucking ducks, imprinting on each other. When I looked into his eyes it was the first time I realized that he really was my brother, my twin.

I had called him my brother in my mind before and Sally my mother, but I only did it because it would be expected of me, not because I wanted to. I felt more like an actress studying for a role than anything else. Because deep down I couldn't help but think that they weren't _really_ my family. That the only reason I ended up with them was because some higher being up there decided it was funny to fuck up my afterlife.

So yeah, maybe my old life was gone and buried. But that didn't automatically make Sally and Percy my new family, my mother and brother. It took some time for me to realize that if the gods, or whatever the hell was up there, really did screw up, they did so by not erasing the memories of my previous life. Somehow I didn't think letting me be reborn into an other family was a mistake.

Things got better for me after realizing that. Easier.

I met my father for the first time when I was exactly four weeks old. My mother picked Percy up from our playpen because he was being his usual annoying self, crying so loudly that our next-door neighbor pounded the wall demanding silence. I watched it happen with the lazy indifference of someone who'd seen it all before.

I heard the knock on door but figured it was our neighbor coming to complain in person, it wouldn't be the first time and with the way Percy was usually wailing it up, it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

The first clue I got for it being someone other than our neighbor was the shocked gasp that left my mother's mouth when she opened the door, and Percy halting mid-wail at the sound of our visitor's voice.

"Sally," the voice of a man said softly.

"P-Poseidon...what are you doing here?" my mother asked breathlessly.

Well... It wasn't as much proof as watching him perform miracles, but seriously, how many people had a cousin called Perseus, a grandmother called Rhea, and a father called Poseidon?

I was kinda, very reluctantly mind you, beginning to see the light.

"I am here to see you - and um - and our son. I would like to meet him if that is alright."

He sounded hesitant, like he wasn't sure he'd be welcomed, but underneath that there was longing, so much longing. For Sally, for Percy...I wasn't exactly sure. Probably both.

"Oh, yes, of course. Please come in," my mother said clearly flustered by his presence.

"I was unsure if- if you wanted me here...after what happened," Poseidon - my father - said uncertainly after he stepped into our apartment.

I wondered what happened between them. They seemed so...awkward around each other, so hesitant.

"Of course I want you here," my mother said emphatically, "I'll always want you here. I just didn't expect you to come. You said it was dangerous."

"Oh it is," my father said. "I took every precaution I could, but it's still dangerous. The less time I spend around the child the more chance he has to survive."

Well, didn't that sound just fucking peachy. Percy chose that time to let out a tired whine breaking the silence he adopted since he heard our father's voice. I understood why, Poseidon's voice was soothing and warm, the best feeling in the world next to our mom's voice. It would calm down anyone even an annoying whiny brat like my brother. Honestly, the kid was lucky he was so cute, or I would've strangled him long ago with all the sleep deprivation he caused me.

"So this is my son," my father said softly, almost reverently. "What's his name?"

"Perseus," my mom replied just as softly. ''Percy for short. I was hoping his cousin's good luck might rub off on him."

My father chuckled softly. "He is beautiful, Sally. May I hold him?"

"Of course," my mother replied, voice thick with unidentified emotions.

I figured it was about time I let myself be heard. Seriously with the way this was going, my mom would forget telling my father about me and then I'd never get to meet him. Well unless I went on that ridiculous quest to find Mr Anal Retentive's lightning bolt. I honestly didn't see _that_ happening. The last time I was even remotely close to lightning I watched my own hand melt to a pole.

Hell to the no with that.

I let out a small cry startling my mother. It was just meant to get he attention so I stopped at that. I reminded her of my existence, the rest was up to her.

"Oh," my mother said. "Poseidon I-I have something to tell you, I... I'll just show you," she said hesitantly, not knowing how to exactly tell him. I guess 'Surprise! We got two for the price of one!' was not the way to go about it.

She walked over to the play-pen and gave me a warm but nervous smile. "Time to meet your daddy, Princess," she whispered softly before lifting me in her arms.

"Poseidon, meet your daughter, Rhea Jackson."

The first thing I saw were a pair of beautiful startled sea-green eyes. My first thought when watching my father gape at me like a fish was that if there was any justice in this universe, it would make sure I inherited those sea-green eyes. They were going to get me anything I wanted, seriously, I was convinced that they were the key to world-domination. And getting laid. A lot. Which were both very good things. My husband was the only man I'd ever had sex with and I was planning on changing that as soon as I was old enough.

"Sally..." my father spluttered.

"I know," my mother agreed with a small chuckle. "It surprised me too. I thought I was done when the contractions suddenly started up again. Four minutes later, little Rhea was born."

"A daughter," my father said voice filled with wonder. "You named her Rhea, after my mother..."

He held Percy in his arms as he looked at me with awe-filled eyes. "You have given me a beautiful boy and a precious girl. Do you know how long it has been since I was blessed with a daughter?''

He looked up at my mother, his eyes burning fiercely, "Gods, Sally, I love you so much."

Well now. _That_ was certainly...heartfelt. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't have to witness my parents getting busy or something like that. Oh the trauma.

"Poseidon I-"

"Please, Sally, reconsider. I love you so much and I want to live the rest of your life with you. I want to raise our children together, have more children with you. I can't stay with you on the surface it isn't safe, my brothers would kill you and our children without hesitation. But you can come with me and live in my domain. You'd be safe there, the children would be safe. I swear to you that you'll never want for anything. I won't leave you until the day you die, and I'll remain faithful to you."

My mother gaped at him and I had to admit I was probably mirroring her expression. Now, I gotta be really honest here and say that I had no intentions of living inside the freaking ocean like I was part of the cast of The Little Mermaid. I had resolved myself to this new life I found myself in, and was planning to take this opportunity to lead the life I'd always wanted to live.

I wasn't going to hold myself back from anything I wanted, not for fear, not for shame, not for anything. Instead of getting pregnant at eighteen and never having a social life, I was going to party like I won the lottery, which I kinda felt like I had, if you ignored the daughter of Poseidon thing. Hell, being the daughter of Poseidon only gave me more incentive to live my life to the fullest, since I probably wasn't going to survive for very long. I could die at any minute from the many monsters and uptight uncles out to get me, and maybe be reborn in another world as Ginny Weasley, or gods forbid even worse, Dolores Jane Umbridge.

So yeah, not really looking forward to spending the rest of my life 'Under the Sea', but after listening to my father's passionate plea I was mentally willing my mother to accept.

"Poseidon I-I don't know what to say," my mother stammered.

It was all I could do to stop myself from screaming out 'Say yes, Fool!' but I figured that might have given away the fact that I wasn't exactly a normal girl. Which was something I would never tell anyone. Ever. I wasn't an idiot. Plus I hadn't even tried talking yet, so I had no idea if I even could.

"I want to, Gods how I want to-"

"Then say yes Sally," my father implored desperately.

"What about your wife? What about your other children? Things aren't that simple."

Well she was right about that. His wife probably wouldn't be very pleased if he brought his lover and children to live with him in the ocean. It was good to know my father loved my mother and wanted to raise his kids, but it didn't seem like a realistic plan.

"Things are that simple. Sally, do you still love me?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Of course I do. I'll never stop. I might meet someone new in a couple of years, someone who loves me, and maybe I'll even love him in return. But it will never hold a candle to what I feel for you. You're it for me. But I'm not that person for you. I'm just another woman in a long line of women that once held you attention." my mother said softly.

It was heartbreaking to hear, really. But I didn't think my mom was completely right about my father.

"Sally, please just-" my father sounded so hurt it was painful to hear. "Why won't you believe me when I tell you you're different. I love you so much."

"I don't deny that, I know you love me. But I don't think I'm very different from the women you had before me, or the women you'll have after me. You always go back to your wife in the end, Poseidon."

"Do you want me to leave Amphitrite is that it?" my father questioned, looking at my mother intensely.

My mother took a deep breath. "Honestly? You're the god of the sea, I don't think it's in your nature to be a one-woman man," my mother sighed tiredly. "This conversation is pointless. We've been over this again and again and at the end of the day we still want different things. It's unfair of me to hold you to human standards because you're not human. You're a god, and I'm a mortal. Things were going to end sooner or later. Dreaming of things that will never happen is only going to hurt us both in the long run."

"I'm not giving up. I've already build our house in the sea, I'm only waiting for you to say yes so I can bring you and our children home."

My mother was silent, she obviously didn't know what to say to that. She looked torn, confused, and like she needed some time to think. I decided to lend a helping hand by cooing at my father, hoping I could cause a distraction by being all cute and baby-like.

"Hello, little Princess," my father said softly, shifting his attention to me. I gave him a toothless grin which I knew from my personal experience with my own children could melt even the coldest of hearts. My father was no exception. You could almost visibly see him go aw.

"She likes you," my mom said sounding a little surprised.

My father must have picked up on the surprise too because he gave her a hurt look. "I can be a very likable person you know."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," my mom hastily assured him. "This is just the most I've seen her interacting with anyone, even me." she sounded a little sad at that.

Aw, crap on a pogo stick. I seriously needed to brush up on my acting skills. With Percy's behavior to use as a reference my mother was obviously slowly being clued in to the fact that I wasn't behaving like a regular child. It wasn't a real problem or anything, it wasn't like she was going to look at me and guess 'mmm this looks like a baby who still has the memories of her previous life' or anything like that. But it could still prove to be troublesome in the future; with my luck she'd send me to a therapist to talk about my feelings or some shit like that.

"What do you mean?" my father asked.

"I don't know, she's just very different from Percy. She never laughs, she rarely cries. She hardly moves or interacts with anyone," she said worriedly. Her tone turned wistful, "And now you're here, and she's smiling and cooing at you. she's never done that with me - not once."

My father smiled proudly," Maybe it's my power she's sensing. She is a child of the sea, my presence has a positive effect on all my children."

"Is that why Percy hasn't cried since he's heard your voice?

My father gave her a puzzled look.

"Unlike Rhea, Percy is hardly ever calm and quiet. I love our son very much, but I could really do with a good nights rest."

My father gave her an apologetic smile. "I guess Percy inherited the more volatile aspects of the sea while Rhea inherited the calm."

My mother smiled faintly. "Yeah, maybe."

My father gave Percy a warm smile, murmured something in a language I somehow knew was ancient Greek, and kissed his forehead. I felt his presence, or maybe power was the more appropriate word to use, flare briefly leaving the smell of a warm ocean breeze.

"May I hold my daughter?"

"Of course, just hand me Percy so I can put him to bed, he seems to be sleeping."

My parents carefully switched babies and my eyes widened in surprise when my father held me for the fist time. The best way to describe it was; when I was about seventeen years old I went on a vacation to Morocco with my parents, sister and her husband and their two-year old son. My family loved traveling around the country, visiting many big cities. I was more a fan of going into the mountains, and places that were hard if not impossible to reach with a car.

When we visited Al Hoceima, a city and port in the north of Morocco and in the center of the Rif Mountains, I was ecstatic. My family stayed in a hotel in the city center, and visited the beach, which was filled with tourists. And I left to explore the less tourist activity the first chance I had. I took a Honda, which was basically an unofficial cab that worked more like a city bus, seeing as how it only drove from point A to point B and back again and was shared by different people, all strangers, to the first public, but non-tourist beach I could find.

It wasn't easy to get there, believe me, and I might have gotten lost a couple of times climbing those stupid ass mountains, but I got there eventually and it was more than worth it.

The beach was populated by locals, not more than thirty people. The water was beautiful, sea green, and calm. The only annoying thing were the stones I had to walk across in the water instead of the traditional sand, but that was easily remedied by going deep enough in the water to not have to stand on the sometimes painfully sharp stones.

I remember just floating in that water. Floating on my back watching the beautifully colored sky. I felt like I was all alone on my own private ocean having a taste of heaven.

That was how it felt like in my father's arms. Just me, all alone, floating peacefully in the ocean.

"My beautiful daughter," my father whispered softly. "This is the first time I have seen you, the first time I have held you in my arms, and I already love you so much. I will never stop trying to convince your mother to come live in my domain, but whether she does or not, you have such a difficult life ahead of you. You and your brother." I could see the grief on his face, and it made me unbearably sad.

This man had lived so long, and lost so many children, it was daunting to even think about.

"I will help you and your brother any way I can, rules be dammed. But I cannot be a visible presence in your life, not if your mother raises you and Percy on the surface. I am so sorry for the tragic fate I brought you, but I am not sorry you were born."

If I remembered correctly he told Percy the opposite in one of the books. So either his social skills took a nose dive, or he likes me more than Percy because I'm a girl. Huh, go figure.

I grinned at my father, cooed cutely, and tried to touch his cheek without slapping him in the face. I hated that I had so little control of my body but knew that it was the downside of being stuck in infancy. I had the memories of an adult, but everything else about me was still only four weeks old.

It was a pain in the ass but it also meant I would have the ability to pick things up faster, because kids' brains are more flexible than adult brains since they're not fully developed until approximately the age of twenty-five.

My small hand missed his cheek and landed on his mouth instead and I couldn't help but smile at the ticklish feeling of his beard. He grabbed my hand and placed a loving kiss on it. "Perfect," he murmured softly.

"She seems almost a completely different baby now that you're here," my mother said softly, making her presence known.

I was seriously going to have to make some effort for my mom. It wasn't her fault that she got a baby with an adult mind as one of her children. At least she still had Percy to coddle and take care of. It made me feel less like I'd stolen something irreplaceable from her.

"She's beautiful," my father murmured softy, still holding my small hand. "You do understand that everything I warned you about when you were still pregnant applies doubly now?"

"What do you mean?"

My father took a deep breath, as if he was gathering his resolve. "I told you that our child would never be safe and that he would be hunted by every monster that caught his smell. Children of the big three are in more danger than other demigods because they're usually more powerful. You now have two children sired by me, Sally. If raising one child was already dangerous, you can imagine what raising two of my children will mean."

"What are you trying to tell me?" my mother asked worriedly. "That I can't raise both of our children?"

Oh crap, this wasn't the part where they separated me from my twin brother, was it? 'Cause that would really suck, in a Lifetime movie kind of way.

"No, Sally, I'm only trying to tell you that you might have no other choice than sending them to camp. Sooner than you might think."

My mother sighed tiredly. "To be completely honest I hadn't planned on sending them at all. I don't want my children to be raised by other people."

Me being born was causing a lot of trouble to my new parents and brother. I felt kinda bad about it.

My father kissed my hand softly before letting it go. "You won't have a choice. They're heroes, Sally. They generally don't tend to lead safe lives. I'm sorry for doing this to you, but closing your eyes and hoping the monsters will go away won't help anyone. It's better to face reality head-on. Monsters _will_ come after them, and bringing them to camp half-blood teaches them to take care of themselves. They'll be safer that way."

I couldn't help but wonder if my father gave my mother this speech in the other time line, the one where I was never born. I had a feeling he didn't because Sally seemed like a smart woman to me. I knew she loved Percy very much, but I don't think she would've risked his life just to keep him with her. My dad must have been more gentle with her then. Or maybe he hadn't felt the need to say anything because Percy was alone, but now that it was two of us...

"How long do I have?" my mother's voice sounded thin, like she was going to pass out at any second.

"A couple of years until their scent becomes too strong. You don't have to send them all year-long though. They could come home for the summer, and when they're strong enough to deal with the monsters themselves, they could come back to you and find a school closer to home and only go to camp for the summer."

Wow, that would be a major change to the story. I wonder what that small divergence would cause in the long run?

"I can't just-" my mother's words choked off in a sob.

"Oh, Sally, I'm so sorry," my father sighed sadly. He gave me a helpless look as if expecting me to tell him what to do before hurrying to the small bedroom he saw my mother enter earlier to put Percy to bed.

"Your mother needs me, little Princess," he said softly before he spoke what I think was an ancient Greek blessing, and lifted me up to give me a lingering kiss on my forehead.

Wow... Seriously, I had never used drugs before in my life but I imagined this was a bit what being high felt like. Just a rush of pure undiluted power and feeling like everything was under a magnifying glass. I felt more of me, like I wasn't complete before.

There had been this sense of power inside me, something I felt since I was born in this new world, something I didn't remember feeling in my old life. But it felt muted somehow like only an elusive echo of the real thing - something I couldn't grasp no matter how much I tried.

Now it felt like the power I had previously sensed were only a couple of slow drips from a leaky faucet that was just turned wide open by my father.

I felt magnificent. If this was only a small fraction of what the gods felt daily, I now kind of understood why they mostly acted like a couple of arrogant, cocky bastards.

My father hastily put me down and almost ran back to my mother. The last thing I heard was my mother crying and my father comforting her.

I fell asleep watching my twin brother's chest moving rhythmically with every intake of breath.

* * *

**A/N:**_ So what do you think? Honest opinion, people, is this something you want to read more of? I thought I'd just put the first chapter up to see what kind of response I receive. I'll update if enough people all interested, otherwise I'll just keep this story to myself._

_I don't have a Beta, anyone interested, please PM me or review, I could use the help. If you see any mistakes, please let me know?_

_Sincerely, Hanane_


	2. Momentum

_I do not own Percy Jackson & the Olympians. _

* * *

_Chapter Two - Momentum_

_..._

My father didn't visit my mother for a long time after that first visit. I think he didn't want to make it any harder than necessary on her. Or maybe he didn't want to make it harder on himself. It was very easy to see that my father loved her very much, and that her rejection of him and what he had to offer had truly hurt him.

He visited me and my brother though. Any lingering doubts on the subject of godhood were put to rest the first time he appeared out of thin air. I'm not ashamed to admit I needed a diaper change after that.

My father must have remembered what my mother told him about not getting enough sleep because he only came when she was sleeping. I did what I could to help my mother out, really, but I was only a baby myself and there was only so much I could do to entertain Percy. Also, my fingers were in a state of permanent wrinkle from being in Percy's wet mouth for so long. For my mom - and my poor, poor fingers - my father was a godsend...or you know, a god.

Percy, who'd usually scream the entire apartment building awake the second he woke up, was immediately picked up by my father and held lovingly in his arms until he fell asleep, and then it would be my turn.

I loved listening to my father talk about his life. He spoke in ancient Greek, which was a little hard for me to understand at first, but came to me naturally after listening to him for a while. It was like speaking a language you grew up hearing, but hadn't spoken often. There was this instinct telling me what it meant, but there was still a part of me that was hesitant, unsure if I was right, and too shy to ask questions. In my case I couldn't ask because I was supposed to be a baby. It was pretty weird at first but I knew demigod children were hardwired to speak and understand ancient Greek. It was just one thing in a long line of things I was going to have to get used to in this new life. Compared to the monsters, prophesies, and Titans that would come later, this was a small thing.

My father told me about the sea and what it looked like. How it felt to live in the water and all the beautiful places he wanted to show me and Percy when we were older. He told me about Triton and how he was sure he would welcome me because he always wanted a little sister to spoil. He told me that Triton would have a problem with Percy at first, but that I would just have to act as the bridge between them and smooth things over. Apparently Triton usually felt threatened by Poseidon's male offspring. Something to do with claims on the throne. Pff like a girl couldn't be ruler of a kingdom.

He explained what it felt like to be inside a hurricane, and to look at the sea and know you were the one it listened to. That you commanded that uncontrollable force. I couldn't wait to find out what he meant by that. I loved hearing his thoughts on how it felt to create a hurricane and watch it destroy everything around you while you stand safely in its eye, and I instantly knew I had to try it out for myself.

He told me stories about his brothers and sisters, their children. His children, both dead and living. His life. He even spoke about the politics in the sea and the trouble he was having getting some species to work together. Apparently Mermen were arrogant assholes he wanted to skewer with his trident most of the time.

He talked about things you'd only talk to a baby about because you know they can't really understand you, and even if they do, they'll forget about it when they're older anyway. It was private, inappropriate at times, too much information at other times, but mostly, it was interesting. And surprisingly enough, funny.

I got to know my dad in a way only a few people knew him, in a way I didn't think I ever would, knowing what I knew about his and Percy's future relationship. The Percy I read about didn't like the relationship he had with Poseidon. Sure it was better than most demigods had with their godly parent, but it didn't seem enough. Poseidon seemed almost frustrated to me, like he wanted to have a good father son relationship with Percy, but didn't know how. Percy just accepted the small scraps thrown at him, and secretly resented the hell out of his father for not being there like a regular dad. It wasn't the kind of relationship I was planning on having with my dad, far from it. I could be a determined little bitch, and I planned on using everything in my arsenal to get as close to my father as possible.

I didn't know if he used to visit Percy before the books started, I liked to think he did. Percy did have some sort of memory about his father, so it was possible. The only difference was that Percy wouldn't remember, and I would. My father didn't know it, but I loved him just as much as he loved us. I, unlike Percy, would have memories of him and he wouldn't be a stranger to me later on. I would never doubt his love for us, or resent him for not being a part of our lives. I was lucky enough to understand and I vowed to make my brother understand too.

One of the first things I noticed about this new life, other than the Greek gods actually walking this earth and using mortals as their own personal harem, was the time difference between my old world and this one.

In my previous world I was born in 1985 and had died before I could make it to my twenty-eighth birthday in the year 2013. Percy and I were born on August eighteen 2004 which would make us twelve years old in 2017 when the lightning bolt would possibly be stolen. Possibly, because nothing was really certain. I had assumed from pretty much the beginning that I was reborn in the book version of Percy Jackson & the Olympians, but for all I knew it was the movie version instead. Although Percy was older in the movies, I hoped I landed myself in the book version. I had only seen the second movie and it seriously sucked ass. I didn't want to live that version of the story, even if it did mean I would get a few more extra years to live my life undisturbed. In the end I just had to wait and see, and try not to assume to know what was going on until I had all the facts.

The different time thing was something I had a hard time getting used to. It was fucking weird being an infant at a time I already met my husband and was only a year away from conceiving my first child in my past life. I tried really hard not thinking about it because I was pretty sure it was going to make my head explode otherwise.

The first couple of years of my new life were uneventful. Being a child was boring and surprisingly not as fun as I thought it would be. Then again, my mother did always tell me; you always want what you can't have. When I was a child in my first life I couldn't wait to become an adult. When I was an adult I kept thinking; things were so much easier when I was a child, I wish I could go back to that time. And now that I was a child again I couldn't wait to grow up and go out into the world. Being constantly bored with only my brother's silly antics to amuse me was beginning to take a toll on my sanity.

My father stopped visiting a couple of weeks after our first birthday. It was my damn fault for not keeping my big mouth shut. It just slipped out, he was my father, it was only natural I call him daddy. Even if every instinct was telling me not to because it would be a stupid idea, I couldn't help it. He materialized into my bedroom forty minutes late, and I was worried because he was never late. I was just so happy he came, I yelled, "Daddy!"

It was both the happiest and saddest I had ever seen my father. The second I saw the look on his face I knew it was the last time I was going to see him for a while. I guess he knew he couldn't stay in our lives long without being discovered by the other gods, and that it would do less damage to us if he left us when we were still too young to remember him, than later on. I understood, but I still missed him so damn much.

My mother was wonderful. She was patient she was kind. I loved Percy, he was so cute he made it impossible not to love the him, but there were days I was fantasizing about throwing his whiny ass out of the window. If my mother ever had such thoughts, I never saw any evidence of it. She was great. It didn't make growing up again any less boring though. Later I would thank the gods for not going through with the 'throw Percy out of the window' plan because my big brother was ultimately the only thing saving me from death by boredom.

It amused my mother to see me take care of Percy while he was supposed to be the elder twin. I tried teaching him to talk so that my own prodigious development wouldn't raise any eyebrows, it didn't really work out. My mother was usually within hearing distance so I couldn't do anything too extraordinary. It sucked, but it couldn't be helped.

It came as a complete surprise to me though when Percy took his first steps before I did. I figured things like that would come easier for me because I had years of experience walking around, but I was so wrong. Children don't understand danger, they literally have no sense of self-preservation. I was a child, but my adult mind was constantly making up all kinds of scenarios about falling and busting my head open like a melon or something equally horrific. It was scary. I just couldn't seem to let go of the table to take that first independent step. In this at least, my adult memories were a hindrance and not an advantage.

I got there eventually, but it wasn't easy. The only reason I let go of my fear and took that first step was because not walking meant I couldn't chase Percy around the house keeping him out of trouble. Crawling after his ADHD ass was simply not as effective as running.

The first time I threw my mother for a loop was when I was eighteen months old and she gave me a children's book to look at the pictures. The stupid thing was ten pages long and was about all kinds of fruit. There was a big picture if a green apple, with the word written underneath it, it should have been child's play for me. Only it wasn't. I couldn't read the word that, my common sense was telling, represented apple. I couldn't read orange either, or banana, or grape, I couldn't read any of the damn words. So I panicked.

First I thought it was some after-effect of being born, that I had to learn how to read all over again. But then I remembered demigods were dyslexic. I was dyslexic.

I was devastated.

When I was nine years old in my past life, my school decided to host a charity fair for an orphanage in Uganda our principal visited over the summer. I ran my own stall selling lemonade, Moroccan mint thee, Sfenj (Moroccan donuts) and Msemen (Moroccan square-shaped pancakes). My stall was very popular but the stall next to me wasn't. A boy a year older than me was selling books, harlequin romance novels mostly, that no one seemed to want to buy. I felt kinda bad for him so I bought one without even reading what it was about.

I had that book in my room for two years without ever opening it, until the day I pissed off my mom one too many times and was grounded for a month. The boredom of being confined to my room the second I returned home from school caused me to read the book. I was instantly hooked. Now I had read plenty of times before, for school, or punishment. But reading something voluntarily is completely different. It opened my eyes to another world.

Looking back on it, some days, I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if the book I randomly chose to buy from that boy's stall sucked. I think that would have been my only voluntary foray into reading.

Ever since that day I fell in love with the written word, it was my entire world. But I soon found that even though reading books could be amazing, writing stories was even more so. I wanted to be a writer. It wasn't about publishing stories, or being famous and earning money, it was simply about creating people and worlds. I thought it was the closest thing I could ever get to magic. In my stories I could do anything, be anyone.

The day I realized I was dyslexic in my new life, I started crying and didn't stop, no matter what my mother tried. I felt cheated somehow. It was stupid maybe, but I felt like it was so unfair. I finally had the chance to start over, to do everything I ever wanted to do, but couldn't. And my most precious thing, something that defined me, made me who I was, was taken from me.

It was the first time since being born into this world, that I felt truly lost.

I just wanted to go home. Wake up in my own bed, play dress up with my beautiful kids, and have fights with my cheating husband. I cried - whenever I wasn't passed out from exhaustion - for an entire week, scaring my mother so much she took me in to see the doctor almost daily. Thinking back on it, it was probably terrifying for my mom to have a baby that almost never cried turn into a screaming banshee.

It took a while for me to accept it as a new fact of life, only accept it; I never truly got over it. I told myself dyslexic or not, I would try writing anyway, and if it didn't work out it would be okay, because writing for me was never about having other people read my work; I could still make up stories and characters in my mind. I tried, but it was a bitter pill to swallow.

.

.

When Percy and I were three years old my mother found herself a job. I hadn't really thought about it before but I knew my mom was going to have to work sooner or later; wanting to stand on her own two feet instead of relying on the money my father sent her.

I almost winced when I thought about how my father would feel knowing my mother didn't want his help in taking care of us. I understood why my mom did it; independence, a clean break from my father. But my dad was still very much in love with her, and he loved me and Percy so much. He would probably see it differently. It would hurt him very much to know that my mother didn't want anything from him.

Another bad thing about my mom finding a job was that Percy and I had to go to pre-school. Now, I'm sure that pre-school is a lot of fun for normal children - Percy seemed to hate it but he wasn't exactly normal - but for me, pre-school was hell.

It was one thing to have my freaking ass wiped by my mother, but it was another thing entirely to have strangers do it. That was just fucking unacceptable.

I spent my days plotting revenge on the unsuspecting teachers working at the school. I swore to myself that the second I figured out how to cause earthquakes or hurricanes, I was annihilating the fuckers. I may have overreacted just a bit, but it was _humiliating_. I was an adult trapped in a child's body, having to endure those kinds of undignified things kinda screwed with the little sanity I still had left.

Since I hadn't yet learned how to throw a hurricane on their asses, I messed with them in other ways, every chance I could find. Whenever they tried to take Percy away from me to let him play somewhere else, I'd start screaming like my head was on fire. I'd stop the second Percy was back by my side, but it was still fun to see what kind of chaos my screaming could cause. The funny thing was Percy copying my behavior. Needless to say they stopped trying to separate me from my brother.

The day Percy cemented himself into my heart and tore down any walls I had erected by trying to keep a distance between us in order to protect myself from getting hurt, started out normal. Mom dropped us off at school, they tried to get me to play one of their stupid games, I refused, they put me down to take a nap, and Percy screamed his way to my side. Normal day.

What wasn't so normal, was the snake lying on my chest when I woke up from my nap.

I had five seconds to look at the snake who'd opened his mouth poised to bite me when Percy grabbed it, slammed it against the wall a couple of times, before strangling it to death. It was the strangest fucking shit I had ever seen. And since I remembered being pushed out of my mother's va-jay-jay, that was truly saying something.

"Bad snaky," my big brother admonished, shaking his index finger at the now dead, or at the very least seriously injured, snake. "No bite."

I couldn't help but snort at the absurdity of the situation. This was...yeah...I had no words. I just watched my brother strangle a snake that would've bitten me without his interference wondering if this was really what my life was going to be like from now on. Make-believe creatures, gods, and epic fights between good and evil. My brother would literally be saving the world, and I was going to be right there beside him.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

I was probably not even going to make it to twenty, and even if I did, it would be one constant battle. This was not what I meant when I thought about getting a second chance at life. But strangely, I was okay with that. Dying young - again - would suck big time, but I wasn't afraid to die, not anymore. And if I would die doing something worthwhile, all the better. But even more importantly, I could help Percy. Not just fight beside him, but be there for him, be his sister. I would make sure he wouldn't have to do everything alone.

I was still watching him play with the snake thirty minutes later thinking about what an insane life Percy and I had ahead of us, and what an awesome brother I had when my mother walked in to pick us up and started screaming at the top of her longs when she saw what it was _exactly_ that my brother was playing with. In hindsight I probably should have sounded the alarm earlier, but in my defense it was hard to turn away from such awesomeness. My big brother really was my hero.

After ripping the snake out of Percy's hands and lots of screaming and panicking on my mother's part, she lifted us up into her arms and ran out of the classroom like a bat out of hell. To my eternal joy we never went back to that place.

My mother was a nervous wreck jumping at shadows for months after the incident with the snake. I figured out early on that she suspected someone deliberately put the snake in the cot with us. I wasn't sure what to think about that. It was weird as hell, sure, but if someone attempted to kill us via snake bite, that would mean that our existence was known to them. In the books Percy wasn't known as the son of Poseidon until my dad claimed him. That meant it was either a crazy coincidence, things weren't going to be the same as in the books, or someone knew about us and tried getting rid of us without getting our dad in trouble for breaking the oath.

I didn't know what was really going on, or who was trying to kill us, but I was determined to not let my brother out of my sight.

That resolution become a lot harder to enforce once we became older and Percy started having trouble in school. He was kicked off and forced to find another school after only a year, and instead of withdrawing me and sending me with Percy to his new school, my mother decided to split us up, and enroll him in a different school altogether.

We were separated for the first time in our entire life and we didn't like it. I understood why of course, but Percy razed hell about our mother's decision and my easy compliance. It was a difficult time in our family. A time filled with anger, misunderstandings, and secrets. I couldn't exactly tell the idiot to knock off his whiny bitching because our mom only separated us to keep us alive. I got where he was coming from, I didn't like being away from him either, especially knowing how easily he fell into situations that had the ability to kill him, but it was what it was.

He accepted it once my mother told him some bull shit story about it not being good for me to change schools out of the blue, and that he wasn't being punished for getting kicked out. Accepted it, but never really understood it, or got over it.

The next few years were less boring. Not that it was saying much. There were just a lot of strange things happening around me and my brother. The weird thing was that I wouldn't really have thought about it, chalked it up to the usual New York weirdness even, if I hadn't already been on guard after the snake incident, and if my mother hadn't reacted so strongly to it. At first I wondered what she was seeing that I wasn't, until I remembered that she had the ability to see through the mist.

It pissed me off to know that there were things going on around us, monsters trying to kill us maybe, and I couldn't even see them. How the hell was I suppose to protect my brother if I couldn't even see what was coming for us.

It took a while for me to train myself to look beyond the mist, partly because I had no idea when something was out of the norm. Everything seemed normal to me, that was the entire point of the mist. It would've been easier if someone could have shown me the difference between the two, so I could try to resist it.

First I went with the Harry Potter route, treating it somewhat like Legilimency. All I had to do was learn Occlumency to protect my mind from being clouded by the mist. That didn't really work out, it sounded easier than it was in reality. I didn't know why exactly, but I had a feeling that it wasn't what I needed to see through the mist. On the bright side; after practicing Occlumency for so long, I was pretty sure not even Edward Cullen could read my mind if he tried. Downside; where was I ever going to meet a mind-reader? After that failed experiment I decided to just watch my mom very closely and try to see what she was seeing.

Suddenly, the one-eyed creepy, _possibly_, child abductors, turned into Cyclopes that were sent to check up on us on our father's behalf, or felt our power and recognized us as their siblings and wanted to take a look.

The world was suddenly a dangerous unfamiliar place, and the idiom 'Be careful what you wish for' vividly came to mind. Now that I'd gotten what I wanted, now that I could see through the mist, it was practically impossible to erase the things I saw, and I wasn't sure I liked what I found. I had to admit that I was always one of those people who secretly thought that ignorance could be bliss. Now that I could see what was out there, Percy's books and what happened in them was never far from my mind.

I knew what was coming, and while it didn't seem like a big deal when I was born into this new life, and I didn't really care one way or another because Percy was just a character in a book, and it turned out okay in the end anyway, things were different now. He wasn't just the 'Percy Jackson from that books series about the Olympians' anymore. He was my Percy. My brother, my twin. I couldn't just let him walk that dangerous road alone.

Yes, I initially wanted to live my new life to the fullest, and as danger free as I could. I didn't particularly want to have anything to do with any of the gods apart from my father - I seriously lacked the patience to deal with adults acting like small children. But I would suck it up and deal with it if the alternative meant abandoning Percy to shoulder that responsibility on his own.

He survived in the end, yes. But I remember reading the books and thinking, 'wow he's really lonely'. I don't even know why I had that feeling exactly, he had enough friends that had his back. But there was just something about him that always set him apart from everyone, something that made him look lonely to me. It could have been the prophesy, it could have been everyone depending on him to always save the day, but I didn't want him to feel alone, not ever.

.

.

Even though I understood why Percy and I had to be separated, I hated it with a fiery passion. Time spent away from my brother was hard as fuck. The only good thing about it was how much more fun we had together, after being separated for so long, whenever our mother rented a cabin in Montauk for the summer. Because our time together, and with our mother was so limited, we spent every day as if it was our last. Running around the beach, playing in the ocean, which was the best feeling in the world, generally just having fun.

I spent a lot of nights sneaking out of our cabin when my mom and Percy were sleeping, sitting on the beach talking to my father. I had no way of knowing if he was actually listening, but I enjoyed telling him about my life, my brother and mom. Just filling him in on the crazy things Percy got up to when I wasn't there to keep his stupid ideas to a minimum. Seriously, revolutionary war canon anyone? Fucking moron.

Percy and I had repeatedly asked our mom about our father, who he was, what he did. She told us he was lost at sea, which was kind of funny when I thought about it. Especially knowing the fact that if Percy and I had mad navigational skills on water, our dad probably knew it like the back of his hand. Lost at sea, my ass.

When I sat at the beach I often prayed to the sea to bring my daddy back to me because Percy and I needed him so much, and mommy missed him. So yeah, maybe it was kind of weird and manipulative, knowing everything I knew about the situation, and the very real possibility my dad was actually listening to me, but I missed him. Sue me, so I wanted to see my dad and wasn't above using the 'orphan Annie is asking for her daddy to come back for her' angle. It didn't necessarily mean I was a bad person, just morally flexible, which in my opinion was a good quality to have in a person. Especially in this new world I was born in.

Seriously, I was not going to have much trouble killing or maiming any asshole out to kill me, and wouldn't give a flying fuck if they were monsters or fellow demigods. They raise their weapon at me or mine with the intention to hurt or kill me, and I would kill the fuck out of them, no hesitation. It probably should have worried me, how far I'd go to make sure the people I loved and I were save, but in all honestly, I was just relieved. At least there would be no 'oh god, I killed him while defending my life, I'm a monster' break downs for me.

I knew for certain that my father listened to my 'prayers' when he came to visit me one night while I was sitting on the beach, watching the waves, thinking about how fast time seemed to fly by.

"Hello," a voice I would recognize under any circumstances said awkwardly behind me. I froze in surprise and a lot of panic but tried to suppress my feelings as best as I could. Excited or not, I wouldn't do or say anything that could reveal my secrets to him.

"Hi," I said softly, turning to give my father a bright smile without showing the excitement I felt at finally seeing him again. I hadn't thought I'd see him until Percy returned the lightning bolt back to Zeus. This was such a surprise, a good one.

He stepped forward and I studies him carefully. His beautiful eyes, his warm smile, the way he looked at me as if I was the most precious thing in his world. In him I could see how Percy would look like in the future. We both resembled our father very much, the black hair and sea green eyes being one of our more distinctive features. I knew I would grow up to be a beautiful woman, but it was still strange for me to look in the mirror and not see my usual brown eyes, and pretty smile with dimpled cheeks look back at me. Sure, in the future men would drool simply at the sight of me, and that would be a big help in getting laid as much as I wanted, but it was still strange. In my previous life I was satisfied with being pretty but always wished I could have been stunning. In this life I was stunning but other than counting my beauty as another weapon in my arsenal, I didn't really care about it one way or another.

My father interrupted my intense study of him by deliberately coughing to gain my attention. He quirked an eyebrow, and nodded at the patch of sand beside me, silently asking me permission to sit next to me.

I suppressed a blush at being caught blatantly staring and allowed my smile to grow in intensity as I nodded happily.

"Sure, my sand is your sand, only not really 'cause it's not actually mine."

The corner of his mouth curled up in a faint smile. "It's not?" he asked, eyes dancing with hidden mirth as he sat himself beside me on the beach. "Who does it belong to then?"

I shrugged casually. "Depends on who you ask, I guess."

He turned his face towards me and I could feel his eyes on me, taking me in. "And if I'm asking you?"

"The god of the sea, definitely." yeah, I probably shouldn't have said that, but I couldn't stop myself. I was the kind of person that liked to live dangerously impulsive, no matter how many plans I made.

"Poseidon?" he asked startled at my answer, but also intrigued. "You believe in him?"

"Poseidon? Mmh...maybe. I _was_ named after his mother." I could still feel the intensity of his gaze on my face, but I tried acting as casual as I could. I could tell I surprised him very much, but that was the fun part as far as I was concerned.

"Rhea," he mumbled absent-mindedly.

"Yeah," I said trying to sound surprised. "How'd you know?"

"I've studied Greek mythology," he said wearing faint traces of amusement on his face. "So why are you out here this time of night?" he asked curiously, "And why are you talking to me? Didn't your mother teach you not to talk to strangers?" he added sternly.

I sighed softly doing my best to swallow the laugh that bubbled up my throat at the cute sight my father made as he tried to be parental.

"I was praying to the sea god actually," I sighed softly, turning my eyes away from my father to look at the ocean. I turned back to look at my father when he stayed silent, and startled when I found him studying me with the intensity of a painter looking at his best work.

"About what?" he asked curiously.

I could answer in a lot of different ways, I could even decline to answer and it wouldn't be strange. In reality my father was petty rude asking a stranger at the beach what they were praying for. But since his appearance pretty much proved he listened to my prayers, he already knew what I prayed about anyway. What harm could it do to confirm my hopes and dreams.

"I'm begging him to bring back my father." this was the best answer I could give him without being rude or lying, which I really didn't want to do to my father.

"Where did he go?" he asked, his voice hidden with unidentified emotions.

"I'm not really sure. My mom says he's lost at sea, so I figured I'd ask the god of the sea for some help. I'm hoping he'll send him home, I really need him."

I heard rather than saw my father swallow heavily. "How long has he been gone?"

"Not long after I was born, I think."

And there he went again looking at me like I held all the answers to every mystery in the world in my hands.

"That's a long time ago. Most people would've given up by now."

"Not me. I'd rather keep praying." and since I was already playing with fire, why not just bring in the explosives too. "He'll come back to me sooner or later, I know it."

"You do, mmh?"

"Yep," I nodded, popping the 'p', "My dad loves me very much, he'll come back as soon as he can."

"How do you know he loves you? You haven't seen him since you were baby. You were too young to remember anything." he was kinda giving himself away. If I hadn't remembered anything or knew exactly who he was I would have thought nothing of it, but since I did remember...

"I'm not sure," I shrugged casually. "I just know. I've always known. I can feel it, how much he loves me and my brother."

He couldn't seem to take his eyes of me. "What about your brother? Does he feel the same?"

"Mmm...kind of. He has this warm feeling in his chest whenever he thinks about dad. And he thinks he remembers something about a smile..." I trailed off distractedly. "He's starting to get angry at his absence in our lives though, ever since..." ever since mom met smelly Gabe, but it's not like I was going to tell him that. He'd probably smite the fucker with his godly powers, which I certainly wouldn't mind. It would defeat the purpose of him being in our lives though. My mother sacrificed enough by having to touch that bastard, I wasn't going to let her efforts be in vain. That being said, the second he even thought about hitting her or Percy, I'd arrange an accident for Mr. Too Ugliano to be allowed to live.

"...Well, it doesn't really matter. He's never been very patient. He'll change his mind when dad comes back, I'll make sure of it."

My father stayed silent his face wiped of any trace of emotions. "You have a lot of faith in your father," he finally said thoughtfully. Ah crap, was I coming on too strong? Yeah, probably. Ask me if I cared.

"I guess I do. In both my father and the god of the sea."

"Sometimes people don't have a choice in things. Perhaps your father wants to be with you and your brother, but something is keeping him away, circumstances beyond his control."

I smiled brightly at my father knowing that was exactly the case. "I know. That's why I'm praying for divine intervention."

I wanted to know what he was thinking so badly. His face was completely blank while he looked at me. Then it seemed to become animated, like he just put on a mask. "You're very smart for someone your age," he said softly, changing the subject after giving me with a butter-melting smile.

I returned the smile, causing my father's smile widen enough to make his eyes crinkle in the corners. "What can I say, I'm prodigious."

He snorted involuntarily. "I just bet you are." he shook his head disbelievingly muttering something under his breath about sounding too damn much like his pompous little brother, making me blanch in horrified shock. I so did not want to be compared to Zeus.

My father and I sat on the beach for another twenty minutes before he suddenly stood up and reached out his hand to me. "Come on," he said hoisting me up as soon as I gave him my hand. "It's getting late, your mother will worry if she wakes up to find you gone."

I sighed knowing he was right, but not wanting our time together to end. He silently walked me back to my cabin but I could practically feel his reluctance. He didn't want this to end any more than I did.

When we reached the door to my cabin he smiled sadly. "Don't talk to strangers, Rhea, next time it could be someone dangerous."

"Alright," I said hoarsely around the lump in my throat.

He grinned and patted me on the head. "Alright, go inside now, you need your sleep."

"Will I see you again?" I asked knowing the answer but hoping against hope that I would see him tomorrow.

"Yes, but not for a while though."

"Okay," I said softly swallowing back the disappointment. "Goodnight."

He smiled one last time and walked away. I wanted with everything that I had to call him back, to beg him not to go. I wanted to at least hug him, but I did nothing. I only turned around and unlocked the door to my cabin.

"Oh, and Rhea? Don't stop praying. You never know when someone listens and decides to answer your prayers, little Princess."

I turned quickly to look at my father but by then he had already disappeared.

I grinned brightly when I though about what he said. He did listen and answer my prayers. He thought I didn't know what he meant by that, but I did.

I chuckled happily. "Awesome!" I breathed before turning back to the cabin and stepping inside.

Suddenly I couldn't wait for the Lightning Bolt to be stolen.

The first time around Percy didn't have me to lessen his burden. This time around things were going to change. I had a lot of knowledge about the future and no scruples about using it to my advantage. I was going to help my brother and I was doing it while wearing Draco Malfoy's signature smirk on my face. This was going to be so much fun.

* * *

**A/N:** _Thanks to everyone who reviewed Favorited and alerted my story. It's good to hear positive things about Rhea. I don't want her to be a Mary Sue, ever. so please let me know if you detect Mary Sue tendencies and they will be eradicated_

_If you see any mistakes please let me know._

**I have seen a lot of my favorite authors do this so I figured I'd give it a try. I'll ask a question, you'll answer, and I'll give you my answer next update along with another question. I'd like to get to know my readers if you guys don't mind.**

**_Question: What is the best Percy Jackson story you've ever read?_**


	3. Super Powered Hot Chick

_I do not own Percy Jackson & the Olympians._

* * *

_Chapter Three - Super Powered Hot Chick_

_..._

_I dreamed I was inside the eye of a hurricane. __Above me were clear skies and I could feel the gentle touch of a warm summer breeze ruffling my hair and clothes._

_This gentle picture did nothing to quell the dread in my stomach at the sight of the eerie calm surrounding me, and the pervasive smell of ozone permeating the air. __I could see lightning flashing in the distance and hear thunder booming at intervals._

_I startled when I heard the sound of static, like an out of tune radio. I looked around confusedly and froze when a familiar song began to play._

Tick tock on the wall, could this be my wake up call  
hiding underneath the sheets I wait for life to come to me  
think it's time I break these patterns systematic 'comes a habit  
am I strong enough to believe

_I knew this song very well, but it was from my old life. One of my favorites. I tried finding it but it didn't exist in my new life._

_The sky that seemed so calm and cloudless before changed into a foreboding shade of grey._

maybe I haven't cried enough tears  
maybe I haven't laughed out loud  
maybe I-

_The song stopped abruptly followed by a crashing sound, as if someone picked up the radio and threw it against a wall. I turned to the sound and nearly fell back in shock when I found myself face to face with Poseidon._

_"Soon, Child. Soon." my father said softly before everything went black._

I woke up with my heart pounding in my chest. This dream was not giving me the fuzzy happy feeling the dreams about my dad normally did. It probably had something to do with the fact that I was pretty fucking sure that it wasn't my dad. I didn't know why I thought that because he looked exactly like Poseidon, had the same voice even, but I just knew somehow that it wasn't him. It felt more like someone was trying to send me a message and thought I'd be more receptive if the messenger wore my father's face. That meant that whoever was behind it was probably an enemy, or at the very least, an asshole trying to manipulate me.

"Fuck," I sighed, tiredly rubbing my eyes.

I hadn't felt this exhausted in a long time and knowing it was caused by someone deliberately messing with my sleep was enough to piss me off. It was the fifth nightmare I had this week alone, and I wondered how long they intended to keep interrupting my sleep. In all honesty I wasn't even sure if I should be calling it a nightmare since it didn't have the usual monster, manic killer, or lightning storm, trying to end me. There wasn't even any blood. Still, the feeling of dread in my stomach and the pounding of my heart wouldn't let me ignore it easily.

I looked up when my roommate shifted and mumbled in her sleep. "I'm walking on needles!"

I couldn't help but snort. I only wished I was dreaming about needles. I loved my dad, really, and I missed him very much and couldn't wait for the day I could finally meet him again, but that didn't mean I liked seeing him play the lead-role in my creepy-ass dreams. Especially not if it was someone using his face to send me a message. A very confusing, probably incomplete one, but a message nonetheless.

"Oh, I_ so_ have a bad feeling about this." I groaned softly.

I was already on edge without someone using my dreams as if they were a supernatural voice mail. The last two years had been very difficult for me, and it was only recently that I felt even a little reassured. From the second I was born into my new life and had started making plans, I had always told myself not to assume things. Just because it seemed like I knew things about the new life I was born in, just because I'd read it in a book or seen it in a movie, didn't mean it was what would happen. I hadn't known I failed miserably until I was twelve years old and eagerly waited for the signs that meant I would soon meet my father again. The strange weather, Percy's dreams, Grover's appearance in Percy's life. I waited eagerly and was beyond disappointed when our thirteenth birthday came and went without any of those things happening.

I couldn't help but feel lost. I was so certain events would play out like they did in the books, I hadn't even seriously considered that they wouldn't. Yes, when I tried to caution myself not to assume things I thought briefly about the possibility of being reborn in the movie universe, but secretly dismissed it. I had been so certain, so when nothing happened as it should have it made me feel uncomfortable. Out of my depth, even.

I had two years to adapt to the way things were, and that my new life would be nothing like the books, and had just started to accept that fact when I read one of Percy's monthly letters while drinking a glass of Fanta and almost choked when I read about his new friend called Grover, his new favorite teacher Mr. Brunner, and Mrs. Dodds, the pre-algebra teacher that hated his guts and would blame him for global warming if she could find a way to make it stick.

I felt like the rug was pulled from under me. Again. The worst part was still not knowing whether the next few months would turn out like the books, the movies, a combination of both, or something altogether different. It worried me, not knowing what was truly going on. I didn't know how I was going to protect myself and my brother from all the different threats converging on us, both known and unknown. I tried very hard to reassure myself that other people had lived their entire lives fine without ever knowing what would happen next, but I couldn't help but feel that other people weren't about to be put smack-dab in the middle of a re-enactment of The Clash of the fucking Titans.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, tiredly rubbing my brow. Things were going to change soon. Even if I hadn't received Percy's letter or had the foreknowledge by reading the books and seeing the movie, I would've known anyway. I could practically feel it. Things were going to change and our peaceful, somewhat quiet, but boring life, would be no more.

It was it strange that even with all the uncertainty, I couldn't wait for it to start.

.

.

I woke up the next morning with a headache the size of Texas. I took an Advil hoping to ease the pain, but I knew it wouldn't help. It was the same every morning after a nightmare. I'd wake up with a headache that wouldn't go away no matter how many painkillers I took to get rid of the hellish pain. The headache would usually disappear around the time the pain grew so much I'd start contemplating hitting my head against a brick wall to distract myself from the agony.

It was like someone was trying to make sure I wouldn't forget about my nightmares. If they were they really shouldn't have bothered. The only thing my headache did was make it impossible to concentrate on school. The dreadful feeling in my gut was enough of a reminder of my creepy dream visitor.

I took a quick shower, ignored my roommate's banging on the door and demands that I 'hurry the hell up', dressed in my uniform and made my way to class. I decided to forgo breakfast like I'd done every morning after a nightmare. My stomach was honestly not up for it. Neither was my head.

"Yo, Jackson!" I cringed at the loud bellowing voice of my friend. "Wassupp!"

"Keep it down, idiot," I groaned cradling my head in my hands. "I have the mother of all headaches performing a drum solo in my cranium."

"What, again?" he asked more softly.

"Yep," I muttered, thankful he'd stopped yelling at the top of his longs.

He frowned concernedly," So this is like the third time this week alone, right?"

_The fifth actually._ "Yeah, so?" I asked uncomfortably.

"Are you sleeping alright?"

I hesitated slightly. "No, not really."

"So you had a nightmare? What was it about?" he asked eagerly, studying me carefully.

"Nothing important," I replied, trying but failing to sound casual.

I really didn't want to talk about it, least of all to Dag. He was a good guy, really, the best friend a girl could ask for. Especially if you considered the fact that I didn't make friends easily - or at all as the case may be. But he was also a Satyr. I was pretty sure everything I told him would be reported back to Chiron.

"Look, Rhea, if you're having nightmares it's best if you talk to someone about it. I'm your friend, I only want to help."

This was one of the reasons I didn't want him to know about my nightmares. I knew he would just assume I was having demigod dreams, and he was probably right, but they were my dreams, private dreams. I didn't want him to report them to anyone else, which I knew he would.

"Nah, it's nothing to worry about, seriously."

"Alright, if you're sure," he said reluctantly. "I'm here if you wanna talk though."

I smiled warmly. "I know. Thanks, Dag, you're a good friend."

And he truly was. The problem was that he wasn't just talking to me as my friend. He was talking to me as the Satyr assigned to me by Chiron and possibly the 'Wine Dude' - but probably just Chiron. Dionysos wouldn't give a flying fuck whether any demigod, apart from his kids, lived or died.

"Anytime," he grinned brightly. "We need to get to class though," he said urgently when he looked around at the now empty halls.

"Aw crap," I groaned. "I can't be late again, especially not to Mr. Vogel's class. I think he might actually kill me this time."

Dag sighed resignedly. "You know this is all your fault."

I wanted to disagree, really I did, but then I'd be lying. I did have the unfortunate habit of always being late everywhere. It wasn't like it was on purpose or anything, it was just something I did. At first Dag tried to make sure we weren't late but he had discovered early on that time just had a mind of its own around me. It always seemed to fly, or slow down so much, it felt like the world was standing still. We'd be on our way somewhere with fifteen minutes to spare and the next moment we'd be late. We had no idea where the time went. Other times we'd be running to make it in time, only to arrive and find out we were the first people there. It was weird and irritating as hell, and also, completely out of my hands.

We arrived at our classroom looking like we were about to walk to our deaths. "It was nice knowing you, Jackson," Dag joked weakly.

"Yeah, you too, Dagwood," I replied, trying but failing to smile. Before I could even scrape up enough courage to open the door to the classroom it flew open.

"How nice of you to join us, Mr. Dagwood, Miss. Jackson," Mr. Vogel sneered. "Are you done with your conversation, I wouldn't want me teaching this class stand in the way of whatever important _issue_ you were discussing."

I winced. Oh he was pissed off alright. Damn, he was going to give me so much detention I probably wouldn't be able to breathe in fresh air for a long time.

"No, Sir, we're good." as soon as the words left my mouth I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.

"Good, you say? I don't think you'll continue to use that description when I tell you what your punishment will be for being late. Again. You might want to hold on to that _'good'_ feeling. Soon you won't even remember what it means."

I could actually hear Dag whimper, and honestly, I wanted to do the same. He was just being mean. I mean, so yeah, I've basically been late to pretty much all of his classes this year. And okay, he did kinda warn me that I wouldn't like the consequences if it happened again, but he was taking it a bit far. Maybe.

We quickly took our seats not wanting to make him any more angry than he already was. I seriously didn't need anymore detentions on my record, my mother would worry herself sick. She'd probably think I was trying to imitate Percy or something, which I _so_ wasn't. My brother was usually kicked out of school once a year, and his grades were crap. I could sympathize. Being dyslexic sucked ass. I was just lucky I already went through school in my past life. I may not have graduated but that was more a mistake on my part than an inability to pass.

I missed my brother fiercely. Since we only saw each other during summer vacations and school breaks, we tried to keep in contact by sending each other e-mails whenever we could get our hands on some computer time. Being dyslexic and writing letters was a fucking nightmare. Sometimes I just wanted to cry when I thought about how I'd get nauseous by simply thinking about writing Percy a letter. My hands would start shaking, my palms would sweat, and there were times where I had to do all I could to stop myself from throwing up. I knew it was probably worse for my brother. Percy and I would occasionally have webcam conversations, but it was very rare to find us both behind a computer at the same time.

To Percy's everlasting irritation our mom wouldn't buy us cell phones. I remembered that it was dangerous for demigods to use cell phones, something about it was like lighting a beacon for monsters telling them 'Here I am, come and get me'. My dad probably warned my mom about it. I wasn't sure about land-lines, but I avoided them as much as I could, not willing to take that chance. Percy didn't know about any of it so to him it seemed completely unfair. He loved our mom very much, but he had no qualms about questioning things if they didn't make sense to him. Knowing more about the situation than he did, I understood why some things had to be the way they were, to my mother's everlasting relief and Percy's obvious irritation.

I sighed mentally thinking about the madhouse our life was about to become.

The winter solstice had come and gone so Zeus' Master Bolt and Hades' Helm were already stolen by Luke, if everything went the way it was suppose to. Percy would soon be confronted about the theft by one of the Furies. He had sent me detailed e-mails about his hated pre-algebra teacher and how she'd always favor the stupid Nancy Bobofit. Soon things were going to change for us and I dreaded it as much as anticipated it. I couldn't wait to see my father again, but I could do without the quest for the Lightning bolt. I fucking hated lightning, it literally killed me. It went against every instinct I had to go look for the most powerful one in existence. It was like I was actively searching out my own death. Not exactly something I would willingly do.

I tensed when I felt someone staring at me and almost cringed when I looked at Mr. Vogel, expecting to find him staring at me with his glare of doom. In my mind his glare of doom was comparable to the feeling Harry Potter had whenever a Dementor was near, or how Frodo felt when he was facing the Nazgul. It had the ability to reduce me to a whimpering mess on the floor crying for my mommy. I breathed a silent sigh of relief when wasn't paying me any particular attention and looked around to find who was staring at me. I smiled when I saw Dag watching me with a small frown that quickly turned into a smile when he noticed me looking back.

Silas Dagwood, or Dag as he liked to called, turned up in my life two weeks after Percy first wrote to me about Grover. At first I was a little suspicious about the timing, but when he never asked me any questions about my family, I reluctantly let go of my wariness around him, and accepted his friendship. Being stuck in the body of a fourteen year old girl made it hard to make friends my own age. It was difficult because the fourteen year old in me wanted to make friends and talk about boys and do other things girls my age did. But the older twenty-seven year old - or forty-one if I wanted to get technical about it - didn't feel comfortable hanging out with a bunch of fourteen year old kids. It was frustrating, spending time with them. They seemed so slow and childish to me, and though I would never decline any opportunity to gossip about hot guys, my definition of hot did not include sixteen year old pimply faced boys younger than my previous incarnation's kid brother. (It was also somewhere around that time that I first figured out my mission of getting laid was going to be much harder than I thought it would at first.)

So meeting Dag and becoming his friend was a stroke of good luck in my opinion. He was also an adult undercover as a child, so that made things a lot easier. Missing my brother and feeling lonely had a lot to do with accepting his friendship despite knowing he was basically sent to spy on me. In the end it didn't really matter. He either knew who I was, or didn't. It wasn't all that important. Even if anyone suspected my father was Poseidon, they still couldn't do anything about it until after I was claimed, and they knew for certain either way, broken oath or not.

I was pretty sure he knew I was a demigod, but I don't think he knew, or even suspected, whose daughter I was. I hadn't seen Chiron around anyway which he would have been if they suspected I was a child of the big three, even if only to visit and see me in person if he was too busy taking care of my brother. And unlike Percy, whose power I could practically feel churning under his skin, my power was calm and almost undetectable. I didn't think it was because I was less powerful than Percy. In all honesty, I probably was, but I also had a much bigger handle on my power than he did.

I had lived without this power inside of me for almost twenty-eight years and I also had the advantage of knowing what it was. It took a lot of time and effort, years worth almost, but I had learned to suppress it, or maybe calm it down would be the more appropriate term to use. My powers always felt like the ocean to me, and all I did was keep a tight grip on it. It was the only thing I was comfortable doing with my powers.

It would've been awesome if I could have practiced, maybe even have an advantage on my brother and many other demigods, but the reality of things was very different. Had I done something other than learning how to suppress my power I probably would have died many times over. My power calls to monsters, It would be like Isabella Swan slitting her wrists and then deciding to take a stroll around the Cullen house to see how many vampires would try playing 'suck the bottle' with her jugular. As it was, I had to be careful with the little training I did do.

In the beginning I was so scared I was going to attract Zeus or Hades' attention towards me and Percy, causing our deaths. I worried constantly but knew something had to be done. Two children of Poseidon, one destined to be one of his most powerful - if not _the_ most powerful mortal child Poseidon ever fathered, and another child with the potential to go either way, living under one roof was just asking for trouble. Percy didn't know anything about our heritage so it fell to me to protect our family.

I figured out early on that our powers were tied to our emotions. Whenever Percy was truly angry I could almost feel this _heaviness_ in the room. I could practically taste the salty smell of the sea, but a furious, roaring sea, not a calm one. Sometimes when he was angry enough and I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine standing on a wooden raft in the middle of a stormy ocean. I didn't know if it was because I was in essence a child of the sea or not, but I thought it felt magnificent. I imagine it would feel terrifying to other people, but to me it felt like being surrounded by my father's loving embrace - like home. It was hard not to piss my brother off on purpose just so I could feel that good. The only thing stopping me was the danger it posed to him when others would undoubtedly notice.

I think I did as well as could be expected in the end, without anyone to guide me. I didn't get us killed, that was a big plus in my book, and my awesome fishy powers were somewhat under wraps. I couldn't ask for more. It would serve me well later on, when everyone kept their eyes on Percy as the big threat, I could slip in unnoticed from behind. That was in essence the part I had appointed to myself; back up.

I had no will to change things for the better, had no grand design to save the world or my 'favorite character'. I only cared about my family. I would be Percy's support, make sure he wasn't alone, and always place him first. One of the things that stayed with me from my past life, besides my strange addiction to Fanta and the unhealthy and admittedly somewhat inappropriate relationship I had with it, was my complete and unwavering loyalty to people I deemed worthy.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't blind loyalty, never that. But as long as Percy was loyal to me, he would have mine, even if he was trying to take over the fucking world. I'd probably talk him out of it because it was wrong, _and a lot of wor_k, but I'd follow him if it was something he really wanted to do, and had a fairly good reason for doing it. That was just the way things had always been for me. I was loyal to the core but I took care where to place my loyalty. Percy had secured mine when he saved me from the snake; it didn't mean I wouldn't kick his ass if he was doing something that went against who he was, though. Sometimes people needed to have some sense bitch-slapped into them. I would gladly slap him silly, if it ever came to that.

I startled when Mr. Vogel cleared his throat giving me his glare of doom. I eeped and quickly payed attention. I might have been re-born with all my memories intact, would soon go out in the world to fight monsters and Titans, was the daughter of a god, had a brother who would end up saving the world, on more than one occasion, but that didn't mean Mr. Vogel didn't scare the ever loving shit out of me.

.

.

"I hate Mr. Vogel," Dag groaned after he read the detention note for the fifth time. I didn't blame him, I did a lot of re-reading too, thinking it had to be a mistake. Sadly, we really had received that much detention. My worry about ever seeing the light of day again, were long gone, I was now pretty fucking sure I wouldn't get to see it anytime soon.

"You hate what you fear," I told Dag sagely trying but failing to sound wise. My mother was way better at that than I was. Probably because I was anything but wise.

"I'm not afraid of him," he denied instantly, trying to sound brave.

I raised my eyebrows incredulously. "Who the hell are you trying to fool? I've seen you almost crap your pants whenever you think he's gong to call on you to answer a question in class."

"Yeah, well, screw you, Rhea. I don't remember seeing you do any better." he spluttered indignantly.

"So, I don't remember claiming anything different. I'm not ashamed to admit he scares me to death. Just one look from him gives me the chills. I don't know what the hell he was thinking becoming a school teacher. He should have just become a prison guard instead, especially with the way he goes about giving detention."

"Ugh," Dag said shuddering visibly. "Don't remind me," he muttered looking forlornly at the detention note still clutched in his hand.

"Don't worry about it. We'll just do the detention and things will die down again. You should seriously consider not walking with me to class though. You know how weird time runs around me. This is not gonna stop, I don't care how many detentions he assigns me. It's not like it's a choice or anything."

Dag looked thoughtful for a moment, before snickering amusedly. "Maybe you can convince them it's a handicap."

I snorted. "Yeah right, they're not that moronic. Although, how you convinced them there's something wrong with your legs just so you can get out of P.E still remains a mystery to me."

Like Grover, Dag walked with crutches to hide his hooves. It was one of the things that made me realize he was a Satyr, that and his unhealthy obsessions with my empty Fanta cans. We actually fit together pretty well with they way I drooled over the Fanta while he drooled over the can.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dag denied, eyes wide with worry. "I told you, I have a muscle disease-"

"Whatever, dude," I interrupted casually, "Say what you want, I've seen you running like a fucking track star when you're worried about not making it in time to Mr. Vogel's class."

"Still don't know what you're talking about," he replied, still adamantly denying everything. Not that I ever thought he would come out and say it. That would've been stupid and reckless on his part.

"Right," I scoffed, "I don't think that's gonna work for me, trying to say it's a handicap. It would've been great if I could have though."

"Yeah," Dag sighed wishfully, all too willing to let go of the subject of his legs.

"Anyway, I gotta go. I reserved some time behind the computer to talk to my older brother, if I'm really lucky I'll get to actually see to him this time." it really had been too long since I last saw Percy. This separation thing sucked hairy ass.

"Oh."

He sounded surprised. It was probably because this was the most information I had ever volunteered about my brother without prompting.

"See you later, Dag."

"See ya, Rhea. Say hi to your big brother."

"Will do," I smiled widely before making my way to the computer room.

.

.

Although I had told Dag I was hoping to see my brother, I had very little hope. We rarely saw each other, I was always a bit too late or too early, time truly was my curse in this life. So when I logged on and saw that Percy was online, it was a big surprise. I didn't even have time to marvel at the unusual stroke of good luck before he invited me for a webcam conversation. I eagerly accepted, nervously fixing my hair as if I was going on a first date.

"Rhea."

He sounded strangely...relieved, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a while. This was worrying to me. Despite everything against him Percy was a good kid, a happy kid. In fact he was seldom unhappy, and when he was it was mostly because of someone else. Like how he hated our mother having to put up with stinky Gabe when she deserved so much better.

"Percy," I grinned cheerfully. "How have you been?"

He leaned in, bringing his face closer to the webcam and exhaled loudly out of his nose. "Paranoid. Insane, maybe? I'm not sure."

Oooo-kay? There was clearly something going on there. "What's wrong?" I asked, feeling slightly anxious.

"Rhea, something weird is going on, and I'm talking Invasion of the Body snatchers weird here, not the usual one-eyed stalker weird."

Alright, definitely something going on with him. "What happened?" I asked urgently, "What do you need?"

"I need the second opinion of someone who I know won't lock me up in a nut house or worse, turn me into one of the pod people. The worst thing is...I think Grover's in on it. I'm not really sure I can trust him because I know he's lying to me, but on the other hand he looks like he really doesn't wanna lie, and is feeling really guilty about it. You know?" he rambled in a very un-Percy like way.

"No. No I don't." okay that was a big fat lie. I was starting to have an idea what this was about. "Take a deep breath, calm down and tell me what happened."

"Yes...okay...deep breath...I can do that."

My brother was clearly freaking out. This was strange, he didn't seem so freaked out in the books. Was there more going on than I initially though? Fuck. I hated this. Things were too different, we were fourteen years old instead of twelve or sixteen. I assumed I knew what he was talking about but in all honesty, Hades could have come himself instead of one of the Furies. My knowledge of how events were going to unfold was worth shit with the way things kept shifting around me.

I studied my brother carefully, noticing he was still busy taking a deep, very deep breath. I could only hope he wasn't going to pass out with the way he was behaving.

"That's good," I said trying to calm him down. "Why don't you take another deep breath just in case, and start your story."

"Okay," he exhaled heavily. "The first weird thing that happened was water coming out of a fountain in the form of a hand to grab Nancy Bobofit and pull her into the fountain. Crazy right? I know, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who saw, and for some reason, no one seems to remember but me - and Grover, but he's lying about it_._"

"Alright... So the water came out of the fountain...by itself?"

"Yes!" he yelled desperately. "I swear, it was like magic or something. Normally I'd say she deserved it, I mean she was being so obnoxious even the water took offence and tried to drown her. But there was something... I don't know, it was weird - weirder than usual I mean."

"That is strange. I've seen a couple of freaky things, we both have, but I haven't seen water act like it has a will of its own."

"I know," he replied softly, thoughtful almost. "It was weird 'cause I was _really_ angry, Rhea, and in that moment I wanted to punch her _so bad_..." he trailed off, still looking very deep in thought. He looked up at the webcam, making eye contact, "But you believe me right?" he asked hopefully.

I sighed deeply. Of course I believed him, hell I knew exactly what happened. I hated lying to him, so much. Sadly, that was just the way things had to be between us. I would never tell him about being re-born, or about the things I knew.

"Yeah, I believe you." his grin was blinding, his eyes smiling warmly in happiness and relief. I was the worst sister in the entire fucking world. "But this still doesn't mean I believe that fish was actually talking to you though," I grinned hoping to light my mood by bringing up happy memories. "I'll figure out who gave you drugs and kick both your asses."

I almost burst out in laughter just remembering his face when he came running out of the ocean like the hounds of hell were on his tail, screaming about talking fish. I almost pissed myself laughing at him. I knew it was probably true, but seriously, his face when he tried to convince me he met a talking fish was priceless.

"I wasn't doing drugs, honestly!" he yelped indignantly. "I know it sounds weird but I swear to God it talked to me."

I shook my head slowly, "Uh-huh, still don't believe it."

"Well at least you believe me about Nancy, no one else does."

"I believe you, now tell me the rest."

"So the second weird thing; Mrs. Dodds, please, _please_ tell me you remember her?" he begged desperately.

"Your pre-algebra teacher right, the one that hates your guts?" it was exactly what I thought it was about. I hoped it would be at least somewhat similar to the books.

"Yes! Thank God you remember her!" he exclaimed with relief. "So Mrs. Dodds, you know the teacher from hell, turned into an actual freaking _creature_ from hell and tried to kill me." he didn't look good. He was very pale and his sea-green eyes seemed too large for his face, as he waited for my reaction. I could only imagine what he thought I'd say, but he almost sagged in relief when denial wasn't my response.

I knew this would happen, well expected it anyway, or something very similar at the very least. But now that it actually had I was...furious. How dare that fucking bitch try to kill my brother?! Then came the panic and images of Percy all alone having to defend himself against that hellish freak. I would annihilate her for trying to harm my brother. The rage that overcame was surprising to say the least. I wanted to find her and tear her limb from limb, show her not to fuck with a child of the sea. I wanted to... I shook my head dazedly, trying to clear it of the rage. I only half succeeded. What the fuck was that? Why was I suddenly overcome with desire to bathe in her blood. Ugh disgusting.

Shock and horror must have shown on my face because Percy nodded in agreement, "Yeah, so not kidding. And as if that wasn't weird enough, Mr. Brunner came wheeling in, threw a _pen_ at me and told me to kill it with said pen. Isn't that the weirdest thing ever? No, it really isn't 'cause the pen he threw at me turned into a freaking sword and I killed her with it. only there wasn't any blood 'cause she turned into a sand castle and...and... Rhea, Sis, I think I'm going out of my mind here," he rambled, sounding panicked.

"I know it happened, I mean it _did_ happen, but as soon as she was dead, destroyed, turned into sand, _whatever_, everything changed. Suddenly I was alone, no Mr. Brunner, no Mrs. Dodds, no sword, _nothing_. The only thing I could think of was find Mr. Brunner and ask what the hell was going on, so I did. But then when I found him he was all like 'Percy my boy, you've come to return the pen you borrowed.' Only I hadn't borrowed anything from him, especially not a pen that could transform into a sword, because first of all; what the hell would I need pen for, to write down notes about a museum trip I hadn't wanted to go on? And secondly; if I was suddenly overcome with the insane urge to write down why the all powerful Titan Kronos needed a prescription for glasses because he couldn't tell the difference between a rock and his youngest kid, I wouldn't have needed to borrow a pen 'cause I already had one in my pocket."

"So he was lying," I summarized.

"Yes."

"And he was expecting you to buy it because...?"

"Well he obviously thinks I'm a moron," he pointed out dryly.

"Obviously," I drawled. "Seems like he's got your number."

"Oh, shut up." he smirked, "Anyway, I clearly didn't buy it so he must have been reading the wrong kind of phone book."

"What happened then?"

"Nothing. Not really anyway. Grover keeps lying, which is so obvious, I'm almost embarrassed for him. And the entire world is acting like there was no Mrs. Dodds, like she never even existed. Everyone keeps giving me these _looks_ like there's something wrong with me when it's clear to see they were the ones that got whammied by the alien pod-people."

I snorted involuntarily. "Seriously, you're blaming this on _aliens_?" of all the things he could have used to explain away everything that had been happening around him, he went on the alien route. Un-fucking-believable.

"Yeah, what the hell else should I think?"

"Witches, and magic maybe? Hell, you could've gone with drugs that induced hallucinations, but aliens?"

He sighed exasperatedly. "How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not doing drugs. Seriously Rhea, the fish was talking to me."

"Yes, and I'm sure whatever it had to say was very interesting, but unless it told you what to do in the unlikely event your school was taken over by aliens, I think we'll put the talking fish in the 'Don't bring it up 'cause people will think I'm insane' box for the time being."

"Fine," he almost pouted, "whatever. Does that mean you believe me about the pod people though? I gotta admit it's unlikely, but what else could it be?"

"Many things. But yes, I believe you. I'm not sold on your alien theory, but it's all we've got, for now anyway."

He smiled brightly, making me smile back without even wanting to. His smile was irritatingly infectious like that. "So what do we do? What's the plan?"

"It's clear that Mr. Brunner is at the center of this, do you agree?"

"Yeah, I guess. He did give me the pen...that turned into a sword...and then told me to kill my teacher from hell with it." he frowned thoughtfully, "I think that's the weirdest thing I've ever said."

I snorted, "I very much doubt that Mr. 'I can talk to fish'."

"If I have to put it in the 'Don't bring it up 'cause people will think I'm insane' box, then it's only fair that you do too, Rhea," he teased lightly. "So you think Mr. Brunner is behind all this, huh? Grover too, I think. There's something between them, something..."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Are you trying to tell me Grover and Mr. Brunner are together...like having sex, _together_?"

Alright that image needed to be bleached out of my mind immediately. I didn't know whether I should laugh my ass off, or...well honestly...laugh my ass off.

Percy's face contorted in disgust. "Oh that's nasty," he exclaimed. "What the hell are you doing saying things like that? You shouldn't even know about things like sex. And why did you have to put that picture in my head, I need brain bleach, lots and lots of brain bleach."

I chuckled amusedly. "I know about sex Percy."

"Well you shouldn't," he said firmly, his cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. "There should be a law that says so."

"You know about sex, don't you? Everyone our age knows about sex, it's only natural that I do too," I said still amused at my brother's over-protectiveness. In the future I could see it getting old very fast, especially if he tried to stop me in my quest of getting laid. But for now it was cute enough.

"Yeah, but you're my _sister_, that's completely different."

I snorted loudly an burst out in laughter. "I'll just let you keep your delusions for now Perseus, it'll be so much more fun to shatter them later."

"Don't call me Perseus!" he snapped reflexively. He was such an easy target to rile.

"Now tell me what you think I should do about this mess. I'm thinking of playing James Bond, maybe poke around a bit, but I'm not sure if I should." he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "You know me, with the luck I have they'll catch me, turn me into one of them, and make me marry their king or something equally disturbing."

I smirked widely, knowing that if the situation was different, and there really were aliens instead of characters from Greek mythology running around, it probably would turn out that way. Percy could have some of the worst of luck sometimes.

"I don't think you should go 007, at least not while we know so little about what's going on, and especially not without me there to veto the most idiotic ideas you come up with. For the time being just observe. You said Grover is a bad liar, right?"

"The worse," he agreed. "I don't know if it's because he doesn't want to lie to me, or if he's just naturally that bad, but I can see right through him."

"Well there you go," I retorted with a smile. "You found your weak link. Just try not to let on that you know more than they think you do. Knowing you, you won't be able to restrain yourself for long," I teased, knowing how he would eventually blurt it out to Grover almost giving the poor Satyr a heart attack, "But try to use when you drop this information to your advantage, catch them off guard, but don't do anything stupid," I cautioned.

I knew he'd probably be fine, but I couldn't help but worry. This wasn't a book or movie anymore, after all, it was now the reality we lived in.

"Alright, I can do that," he agreed easily.

I smiled softly at my brother. "Good. Let me know what else you find out, I'll need to know in advance if I have to go find mom's old shot gun and come rescue you from an unwanted marriage."

Percy grinned widely. "Mom doesn't have a shotgun, Rhea."

"I know, I'm just saying-"

"-Be careful," he interjected, "Yeah, I get it."

"Good. So what else is new in the exciting life of Perseus Jackson?"

"Don't call me Perseus, Rhea!" he snapped before giving me a detailed description about what happened to Grover the last time they had Enchilada day at school.

I tried letting go of my worries while my brother filled me in about his life, but it was hard. All I could do to alleviate my worries was focus on the book future, and tell myself he would be fine. However, knowing how little was going according to plan, I was far from reassured.

Oh well, in the words of the great Faith Lehane 'Thank the gods I'm a hot chick with superpowers'.

* * *

**A/N:** _Thanks for all your reviews, they mean a lot. Please let me know what you think? I'm desperate for some feedback._

_A lot of people weren't sure if I meant favorite Percy Jackson books, or fanfiction and gave me both, so I decided to do the same._

**Answer****:** Favorite Percy Jackson book is **The Last Olympia**n, and favorite fanfiction is **Waking Up The Ghost** by** Perseia Jackson**. It's an AU: Fem!Percy story. I quite like those, check it out if you're interested, and let me know what you think. I have a million people to talk about the books I like, but no one to talk to about the fanfiction stories I enjoy reading.

**QUESTION**: name your favorite Percy Jackson character (from both series) and tell me why he or she is your favorite. You can name more than one if you can't choose.


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